


Clowns and Killers

by cringe_town



Series: s/c/p stuff [1]
Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Dysfunctional Relationships, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, RPF, Romantic Friendship, Sharing a Bed, Tags May Change, shawn craig and paul are poly and in love sorry i dont make the rules
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2020-10-17 13:31:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20621828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cringe_town/pseuds/cringe_town
Summary: "Here comes the pain!"*every two chapters will switch between the three ships,, so if you dont like one or two just skip the two/four chapters to the ship you like!!*!!SLOW(ish) UPDATES!!





	1. Time Falls Away (C/S)

**Author's Note:**

> am i tired?? yes  
am i stupid?? absolutely  
do i ship these jus because i read one fic with craig/paul and craig/shawn mentioned as a couple n theyre my favourites?? hell yeah  
am i embarrassed and ashamed of this?? you know it babeyy!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a semi-angsty ramble that I wrote while having an existential crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really bad im not gonna lie just skip this chapter alltogether its shitty

Shawn sighs, trying not to focus on the pain that comes up and shadows his every move. Years of feeling this pain has made him almost numb to it, but now it makes itself too prominent to ignore. The pain started so suddenly that he couldn't help the quiet gasp that excaped him. No one notices it.  
  
Craig is the only one who sees how hurt Shawn is. The silent man sees everything, filing most away until he needs it. Other things he picks out and acts on them. In this situation, he decides to focus on Shawn's obvious suffering and acts as best he knows how ... He pauses and twists around, gently envoloping the older man in a hug.  
  
Shawn tries to ignore the way his heart stops in his chest as Craig hugs him. Despite the sampler's seeming obliviousness to human emotion, such a little action means so much. One hug means to Shawn as an 'I love you' means to others, and it is the same for Craig. Such a simple thing, yet it is made giant by two people who struggle to understand, sharing it in a way that no other person would ever truly know.  
  
As his pain dissipates, Shawn lets himself relax into Craig's hold, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's torso. Craig leans into Shawn's shoulder and pulls away, even though it's obvious that neither of them want the moment to end.  
  
The sampler smiles at Shawn for a moment before turning away and acting as if nothing ever happened. They will both hold onto the memory and replay it for hours, and yet they still ignore their closeness. The more they ignore, the stronger they feel for each other, and the more scared of it they get. Neither of them wants to admit the fear they feel towards feeling, so they hide and lock themselves away.  
  
The fear and walls they build around themselves manifests as anger. The anger makes them dangerous. The more angry and dangerous they get, the more scared other people get and the more they ignore. The ignorance makes them hurt. This cycle will continue until the end of time, it doesn't matter what form they are in. Even when Craig and Shawn are long gone, the cycle continues. Time falls away like sand into the wind and never comes back, just like people. Only the emotion and memories remain.  
  
When two people who feel as much as they do and yet don't at the same time meet and share and feel together, it creates a relationship that could turn deadly if led to the wrong hands. The wrong hands could be anyone's, and so Craig and Shawn stay silent about how they feel with and for each other. This hiding is how they survive in the futile and needy world that is Slipknot, possibly the most dangerous band in metal.  
  
The band itself is vital in this. All nine members would be stuck in their old lives - running paper routes, working in warehouses, electricians, you name it - doing nothing except just existing. Shawn and Joey created the band to do more than just exist. They wanted to live.  
  
And so here they are, still hiding away as they have done for years. Shawn almost misses the recklessness in which the early years of their band thrived, but he knows deep down that they can never do that again. It was infinite, existing in a world of finite. It wasn't meant to be that way. It would never work.  
  
Now, as Shawn takes a few moments to breathe and try to recreate the safeness and calm of his little moment with Craig, he can't help but to think. He thinks about all the things he's ever done or thought. Soon, though, his thoughts are all of one topic - what is the purpose of time? Why does it go so fast? Why can't we go back?  
  
Craig, yet again, seems to sense the panicked fluttering inside Shawn's head and goes to comfort him once more. This time he doesn't let go, even after the percussionist had calmed down. Shawn found this to be one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for him, and can't help himself but to lean some of his weight into the smaller man. Craig doesn't seem to mind this, so Shawn doesn't move away.  
  
Almost an hour passes when Craig finally decides to let go. Shawn thanks him, which earns him a polite nod and a "don't worry about it". The sampler's relaxed nature is infectous and he knows it. That is why he takes so much time to make sure that Shawn is okay - because The Clown doesn't know when to slow down and give Shawn a break, so Craig does it instead.  
  
Craig gives Shawn the calm he needs, and Shawn gives Craig someone who won't judge him as so many people have done and continue to do. A perfect balance of giving and recieving support, one that both desperately crave. It doesn't take much to see that they're much happier when the other is around. Even then, they insist that they do not like each other.  
  
Why do they deny such an obvious fact? They are afraid. If they talk about it, it will become real. They have been avoiding the Real for years, and it is what Shawn runs from. The Real panics, cries, and screams at him until he can't control himself anymore, and that's why so many people are afraid of The Clown - including Shawn. So, Craig helps him run. They run from Clown together, shooing him away until all that's left is a calm and quiet serenity that no one dares to break.  
  
The Calm outweighs the Real until they are left alone, then the Real wins the battle and leaves everyone in a state of hysteria. It looms over us like a storm cloud, waiting to make us suffer. The only difference between us and them is the fact that Shawn is so closely tied to this Real that he can never truly escape it. He can only get away for a few moments, then it finds him again.  
  
The only thing that helps him stay away from that everlasting Real is the negativity killing closeness he shares with Craig. That closeness allows the both of them to lose track of not only themselves but of the suffering that they've been carrying with them. Time really does fall away when they're together, and they couldn't be more addicted to it.


	2. Technological Hell (C/S)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn has some computer trouble while Craig struggles with how he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright so i finally finished it!!!! sorry for the long delay :(

_ **Wednesday, October 5th, 2001**_  
_ ** 10:54 pm** _

Shawn glared at his computer screen. He was starting to get a headache, and the device kept crashing and unsaving his work, but he had to get this music video done. The stupid computer shut down just as the percussionist went to save a particularly difficult edit he had done. Anger bubbling up inside his chest, The Clown making his way to the surface, Shawn couldn't help but to slam his fists down on the table. If only the technology they had wasn't so shitty he'd be able to get this done!

The door behind him opened and closed, but Shawn didn't hear anyone, so he suspected that it was Craig. The sampler never made any noise unless it was absolutely necessary. Shawn actually quite admired the silent man for that. It was a rare ability to stay so independant and quiet when humans are naturally so opposite to that. It intrigued him, so much so that he found himself watching Craig constantly, just processing the sampler's actions and idiosyncrasis. The words he spoke (if any) were only about music or samples or guitar riffs he made up. Other than that, Craig never spoke. Shawn waited for Craig to walk over to him before turning to look at him.

"You find anything good to add?" Shawn asked softly, not realising that he had suddenly become a lot more calm until he heard his tone. Craig hummed, sliding into the chair next to him and reaching around to type on the keyboard. Shawn waited patiently for the silent man to finish typing before looking at the screen that had booted back up while he was thinking.

Craig had opened a note taking app and typed "Please be careful with the computers". Shawn couldn't help but to laugh. The sampler's face went red as he turned away, already reaching to delete what he had written out on the screen. Shawn couldn't quite place why, but he felt almost guilty, like he had laughed at Craig instead of the irony of him showing emotion towards an inanimate object. He felt like he had just done something extremely rude and disrespectful.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed. I didn't mean it." Shawn said as he stared thoughtfully at the still blushing Craig. While waiting for a response that was probably never going to come, the percussionist had plenty of time to continue his earlier train of thought. Looking at him, Shawn could see the start of stubble and curly hair that was almost invisible from afar. Craig himself being so pale with hair as short and light-coloured as he had, it almost made him look like a ghost from a cartoon. Yet his bright blue eyes, boyish yet thin face, and nerdy glasses gave him an air of someone who lives only to prove to people that they were wrong about him. The dark clothes he always wore added to the ghost-like look of his skin, making him seem almost transluscent. The ink on his arms fascinated Shawn almost as much as the rest of him did.

The first tattoo that Shawn saw from Craig was the stag head with the upside-down cross between the antlers on his forearm. He'd never gotten close enough to read the small, thick lettering under the image, but even as close as he was now, he couldn't read it. Maybe it was meant to be like that. Shawn had no idea, though, so he continued to inspect the images on Craig's arms. The next one, on the same arm, is a colourful sugar skull type design with a yellow base, purple and green detailing, and dark blue eye sockets. At least, that's what the colours look like they are.

Shawn blinked his attention back to Craig's face when he realized that he'd been staring off into space for longer than he meant to. Craig stared at him, the faintest trace of blush still on his cheeks. Despite what some people had to say about him, Shawn actually found Craig to be quite good-looking. Maybe that was just the world's way of telling him that he was royally fucked. "Sorry, what?"

"I said are you okay? You spaced out." Craig deadpanned suddenly, pushing his glasses up further on his nose. _If only I could go Clown Mode around him then talking wouldn't be so difficult_, Shawn thought to himself as the sampler turned away and spun his chair around. The childish action surprised Shawn. Out of all the things he's seen Craig do, he'd never have guessed that someone so _adult_ could contradict that so easily. Yet another reason why Shawn found him to be so interesting - he changes and acts differently for everyone. Craig's different reactions to things and people were so varied that they almost drew Shawn closer to him. 

"Sorry. I was just thinking about things." Shawn replied at last, hoping Craig didn't notice the lapse in his response through his spinning. "I feel like I've apologized to you a lot."

"Really? No shit, Sherlock ... And what kinds of things, if you don't mind me asking?" Craig slowed and stopped his chair, rolling it towards his bandmate. Shawn sighed, trying to think of something that wouldn't be seen as creepy or weird. Despite the fact that the band they shared lived simply to be creepy and weird, Craig's hatred of being the centre of attention made Shawn feel as though he had to hide his thoughts.

"Uh, you ..." Shawn waited for something else to come to his head, but he kept blanking. Craig did his usual shrug-nod-thing when the percussionist didn't continue. If he was being honest, he kind of expected that when he caught Shawn staring at him. "How are you so unphased by everything?"

"I'm not, I'm just really good at hiding how I feel." The sampler replied, his tone too relaxed for such a statement. The level of comfort Craig had with him made Shawn feel so special. No one ever opened up to him like Craig just did except for Joey, but Joey talks openely about how he feels with everyone. "That and I saw you watching me."

"Oh? Sorry." Shawn reopened his editing app for what felt like the hundreth time that night and tried to redo the progress he lost. Craig watched him edit for a while, just sitting quietly while looking at the screen.

Almost an hour passed and, luckily, Shawn was able to get through his editing and saved it before it crashed.

"It's almost like it knows that I'm done dealing with it." Shawn joked, nudging Craig gently in the side. Craig chuckled in response, pushing against Shawn's arm. Shawn felt as if his entire arm just got electricuted at the contact, his nerves shooting through the roof. Blushing, the percussionist turned away as Craig fiddled with something on the rebooted computer, shutting it down for the night.

"Welp, it's late. I gotta get home. I'll see you tomorrow, Clown." Craig got up, waving goodbye on his way to the door. As he opened it, he got knocked over by three bodies that fell in on him. "What the fuck?!"

"Chris, you fuck! You were supposed to tell us he was coming to the door!" Sid yelled, getting up and pulling his other two bandmates off the floor. Corey wrapped his arm around Craig's shoulders when the two of them stood up. The vocalist sent Shawn a knowing look and got one of slight jealousy but mostly annoyance in return.

"Were you guys spying on us?" The percussionist asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Corey and Sid shared a grin. Chris had the nerve to look humbled. "Assholes."

"Hey! We just wanted to see how our sampler and resident weirdo were getting along." Sid smiled wider, grabbed Chris and ran out. Corey stayed, swaying Craig around like he wasn't even there. The smaller man was obviously not enjoying what was happening. Shawn felt bad for him, knowing that while some contact was okay, this was clearly crossing a line for him.

"What're you glaring at me for, Clown? You jealous?" The vocalist teased, drunk and high out of his mind. He was swaying so much that Craig couldn't keep his balance enough to stand straight, let alone pull away. "Jealous that your boyfriend lets me touch him and not you?"

"I'm not his boyfriend!" Craig suddenly shouted, shocking Corey enough to let him go. "Fuck off, you fucking prick!" Shoving Corey out the door, the sampler was starting to turn red from pure anger. It made Shawn wonder why being called his partner made him so mad. "And fuck you."

"Why fuck me?" Shawn asked, quite disappointed in his bandmate's reaction. Craig sighed, sinking down into the chair he had been sitting in, forgetting all about needing to go home. Shawn waited for a response.

"It's stupid." The sampler said, suddenly sounding very tired. Shawn fought the urge to console the smaller man, but he was weak around him. Something about Craig was just so... Addictive. Shawn couldn't deny himself what little he had with Craig. He just wasn't strong enough. Now, The Clown definitely was, but the psychotic energy was satiated by the sampler's calm aura. "You wouldn't understand."

"I bet I would if you told me." He replied, almost begging to know more. Slowly, Shawn placed his hand on Craig's arm in what he hoped was a comforting way. "Please?" The two men stared at each other for what felt like an eternity until the sampler finally stared speaking.

"Okay, so, um, I really like you and I told Corey because I was going crazy not saying anything but I couldn't tell you for obvious reasons and-" Craig cut himself off when he started getting too emotional about it. Yes, he trusted Shawn, but still not that much. "Uh, nevermind."

The sampler began fiddling with his shirt, hoping that he could find a great enough disctraction to keep his attention away from the growing ball of feelings that was starting in his chest.It was a trivial attempt. Nothing worked, and the fact that Shawn was there almost him feel okay about that. Him feeling okay about Shawn witnessing him try to not break down didn't really suprise him, but it did make him realize how truly weak he was around the older man. All the emotions he was so used to hiding, and one man undid all of it without even trying. Yeah, Craig was fucked.

"Wait, you-" Shawn couldn't believe what he was hearing. Craig liked him? "You like me?"

"I said nevermind." Craig mumbled his response, his voice soft. He took off his glasses and began fiddling with them, wishing that they could change the subject and forget what he said. But, knowing Shawn, he'd never let it go. He'd make it impossible for Craig to go anywhere without mentioning it. "Look, I didn't mean to say that, so can we please never talk about this ever again? Let's just forget I said anything, okay?"

"But why? Why say something and then act like the words don't even exist? Especially something like that." Shawn couldn't help but to ask. Craig's embarrassment towards being so human was almost expected, but still curious.

"Because I like you and you don't like me and admitting it makes it real and that's fucking terrifying." The dry yet soft tone to Craig's voice made Shawn feel extremely guilty. What had he ever done to make the sampler think that he didn't like him? Maybe it was because he had never said anything. "That, and out of all the things you've ever done, I seriously doubt that you'd okay with one of your bandmates being helplessly in love with you."

Shawn couldn't think of a good response. Yes, he feels the same way, but how does he say it? He has no idea. Craig adjusts himself in his seat awkwardly, waiting the other man to blow up and start screaming at him. He doesn't know he expects anger, and the shame he feels for thinking so negatively about someone he cares so deeply about almost overwhelms him.

"Craig, I don't mind. Really, I don't." The sampler was incredulous. Shawn could fake his way through everything if he really wanted to, so why wouldn't he fake this? "I actually kind of feel the same way."

Craig blinks several times, trying to understand exactly what was said but shock was making it difficult. Shawn looks at him expectantly, hoping that the sampler would finally believe him.

"Y-... You're lying." Craig mumbled quietly, placing his face in his hands and sighing. Shawn would never lie, but Clown's manipulative and Craig's been tricked by the creative yet psychotic persona before. "Clown, you're lying."

"What? No, I'm not." Shawn was beginning to feel almost desperate. It was obvious that Craig wants to believe him, but his need to not get hurt was greater than his want for the love to be mutual. Craig shook his head.

"Prove it then." He felt like crying. If only they could forget he had even said anything, then this would be so much easier. But nothing is ever easy, is it?

Shawn had no idea what the sampler meant by "prove it", but he didn't necessarily care. He'd do anything to make Craig believe him. His desperateness almost radiated off of him. The intensity of it scared him.

"Please, you have to believe me..." Shawn leaned forward, entering the smaller man's space. "Craig, I love you."

Craig smiled weakly. His eyes betrayed him as they looked almost dead. "If only I could believe you."

With that, the sampler stood and left, ignoring the tears that fell down his face and the stares from his bandmates as he walked down the hallway. He had made his choice. If killed him, but he did whatever he thought was best. He would never let himself get hurt. He'd felt too much in such a short amount of time - he shouldn't get his hopes up like that. It'd end up hurting more people than saving them.

All he wanted was to save people from pain he might cause.


	3. This Love (C/P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul/Craig drabble based off of "This Love" by Pantera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its really angsty so be warned!!! it is my goal to make you guys (and myself tbh) cry
> 
> also this is lowkey super short,, i just wanna post something real quick while ao3 fixes itself

_"If ever words were spoken  
Painful and untrue  
I said I loved but I lied  
In my life  
All I wanted  
Was the keeping  
Of someone like you  
As it turns out  
Deeper within me  
Love was twisted and pointed at you  
Never ending pain, quickly ending life  
You keep this love, thing, child, toy  
You keep this love, fist, scar, break  
You keep this love  
I'd been the tempting one  
Stole her from herself  
This gift in pain  
Her pain was life  
And sometimes I feel so sorry  
I regret this the hurting of you  
But you make me so unhappy  
I'd take my life and leave love with you  
I'd kill myself for you, I'd kill you for myself  
You keep this love, thing, child, toy  
You keep this love, fist, scar, break  
You keep this love  
No more head trips" _

Craig stands back from his bandmates, hoping that no one in the crowd around them notices the fact that he's slipping away from the rest of them. His mind wanders while fans approach his friends - happy, excited, overjoyed - and everyone ignores him. That's how it always goes. He's greatful for that, though, because he isn't sure if he'd make it very far in the spotlight. The shadows allow him to think and watch before approaching. Alone doesn't expect anything from him except silence.

"Hey, Craigy. Slippin' away from us again, huh?" Paul is now standing in front of Craig, obviously smiling behind his mask. The shorter man blinked several times. The sudden interruption and the lack of people around caught him off-guard. He must have been zoned out longer than he thought. "Hey, you alive in there?"

"Yes." Craig, finally able to recognize things as real things and not a train of odd thought, grumbled in his usually gruff tone. Paul patted Craig's shoulder, making sure to not poke himself on the spikes, and walked the sampler back to the backstage area. Craig didn't mind. This way, he could focus on the warm hand around his arm rather than where he was going. He'd kill just to hold that hand.

While they were walking, Paul took off his mask. The rings in his nose, lips, and ears shone brightly in the artificial light. One could dare to call the man beautiful. Craig dared to call him angelic. Dark hair that brightened in the sun. Strong arms that, when wrapped around you, felt like home and pure love. A voice so soft yet rough that it seemed to dance in the air. Eyes that saw into you rather than just you. 

Craig could watch Paul all day and not get bored. He could sit next to the bigger man silently, just relax in the presence of _him_, and never get anxious or start to feel awkward. Maybe that's part of why he likes Paul so much. He's intoxicating. 

Paul removed his arm from around Craig's shoulders and wandered off. Craig tried to keep himself from feeling disappointed - he knew that would happen - but the low feeling settled deep into his bones before he could stop it. He kept his mask on for fear of the others asking him questions. In that moment, he really would have preferred Paul to have stayed, strong warmth radiating from the bassist's skin, and to have talked at least a little bit. Things never seem to turn out right when Paul is involved. 

After several hours, Craig had gone back to his usual, fortified self, and had been quietly sitting in a chair near the door. His mask lay abandonned on a table that ran along the wall next to him. Paul walked in, looking spacey and excited. Craig knew that look too well. It was no secret that most of the guys in the band were getting so high that they wouldn't even feel it if their legs got sawed off. Craig sighed, more disappointed now than before. He thought that maybe Paul would've stopped taking all the drugs, but appearantly not. 

"Hey, dude, I need to tell you something." Paul was looking at Craig, but not at him. More _through_ him. Craig looked up at Paul expectantly, his eyes decieving the deadpan look on his face. "You're really cute." 

Craig mentally slapped himself as the heat rose in his face. He hated that his face betrayed him so often. The red tint in his cheeks made things feel worse than they really were, and right now, things had so much potential to go bad that the blush was more unwelcome than usual. Paul just continued to look at him with that E'd out glint in his beautiful eyes. 

"I like it when your face goes all red. The guys tend to forget that you're a real person so it's kinda like, 'hey, I'm human', ya know?" Paul tended to take on his friends' speech patterns when he got this high. Craig looked away. He knew it was only the drugs talking, not actually Paul. 

"Thanks." Craig all but whispered. In his head, he was jumping off the roof. In the real world, he was just a guy sitting in a chair looking like he got a really bad sunburn on his face.

"I mean it, Craig. You're really cute." Paul repeated himself, reaching down and awkwardly pulling the smaller man into a hug. Craig forgot how to breathe for a moment. Then, too soon, it was gone and Paul left for the second time. Too much hope too soon is bound to kill him.


	4. We All Have Our Fears (C/P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul helps Craig get over a few things that he's been carrying since he was a kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based off of a poem i wrote before i came out (the first time) and what happened when my (now ex) girlfriend found out that im trans.... this is very personal and i cried like,, seven times writing this and honestly??? reading it back makes me really sad so if theres a lot of mistakes i apologize

"Dude, you good?" Paul asked, looking as sincere as he sounded. "You're shaking." 

"Fine." Craig did not sound or even look fine. He looked panicky and stressed. Paul had never seen Craig so afraid. Paul wondered why Craig was so scared for a moment, staring intently at the smaller man's face, but looked away when his eyes started to burn from not blinking. 

"Please don't lie to me. What's wrong?" Paul's voice was unnaturally soft when he spoke. Craig just waved him away, shaking his head and suddenly looking almost annoyed. Paul had no idea what he did, but he hoped that Craig would tell him soon. "Okay, then. We'll talk later?" 

Craig just walked away, quiet as ever. Paul sighed. If only Craig trusted him more. Little did Paul know, but that was exactly Craig's problem. He trusted Paul a little too much. He enjoyed the bassist's company _too_ much. Slipknot's supposed to be a brotherhood, but Craig wanted more. At least from Paul, anyway. He knew he couldn't get that. He knew that it was wrong for him to want.

If anything from his life taught him anything, it was that he shouldn't like Paul the way he does. His parents have always been devout Christians, and even though Craig hasn't been to church in years or really identify with any religions, he can't let go of the things he was forced to learn. The radicalist ideals of the more intense Christians has been following him since the day he figured out what hate was. His family has never understood why he dislikes himself so deeply, and he plans to keep it that way. 

Paul asking if he was okay wouldn't have been so scary for him if he wasn't already afraid. He was afraid that he'd been caught. His friends were obviously okay with everything that Craig grew up with hating, but that didn't change anything. He was raised to believe that men liking men was wrong. Even though he'd never felt like this towards a guy before Paul, he still felt dirty for it. Every time he saw the bassist it reminded him of how he felt and it made Craig feel guilty. 

"Hey, Craig." Speaking of Paul. "About earlier... Are you crying?" Craig quickly wiped his face, silently cursing as his fingers brushed the wet trails away. Paul looked concerned. Craig refused to look at him, even when Paul forced him to look up. "What's wrong?" 

Craig could barely focus with Paul's hand gently holding his face and neck, his thumb slowly rubbing against his cheek. Craig felt his panic from earlier return but with a bit something else. He couldn't seem to pull away from Paul. "Nothing's wrong." 

"Don't lie to me, Craig, I'm not stupid. Please, talk to me." Paul sounded desperate. Craig's knees felt weak and he knew that he was shaking, but for a different reason than before. Something about it was so exhilerating and _new_. He couldn't get himself to look away from Paul. Funny to think that he refused to look at him a few short moments ago. 

For once in his life, Craig felt bold. Quickly as he could, he leaned up and pulled Paul down. As soon as their lips brushed together, Craig pushed Paul away and practically ran from him. Paul just stared after the smaller man, baffled. He definitely did not see that coming. 

~~~ A FEW DAYS LATER~~~ 

It had been days since Paul and Craig had talked, let alone look at each other, so the others in Slipknot knew that something was very wrong. The only thing was that neither of them would tell anyone what happened. They were all used to Craig not talking, but now he was not talking and sad. It worried his friends to see him like that, but Paul refused to tell them anything even though they knew that the bassist had something to do with it. Why else would Craig be avoiding him? 

Eventually, they all got tired of the bullshit. Corey, especially, but that was to be expected. What was the Great Big Mouth without his short temper? 

"Alright. Band meeting. Craig, Paul, you guys are in it, too, so suck it up." He motioned for the two to join him in sitting in a circle around the room. A few of the guys stood, but most sat. "I'm sure we've all notice a few... tensions between a few people here. We're gonna work that shit out. Right here, right now. Paul, you wanna say anything?" 

"Jesus, I knew this was gonna happen." The bassist grumbled into his hands. He lifted his head to see everyone looking at him. Except Craig, of course. He was staring blankly at a spot on the floor. "I just asked Craig if he was okay and now he's pissed at me." 

"I'm not mad at you, stupid, I'm mad at myself." Craig replied almost automatically. Jim, Chris, Sid, and Paul jumped in their seats at the sudden interruption. Paul's brows furrowed together in confusion. He couldn't know, he had no chance to learn. 

"What do you mean?" He asked. Craig looked at him for the first time in almost five days. The room was deathly silent for possibly way too long. 

"I mean that I made a bad choice and I'm scared of it." Craig was slowly becoming more and more tense. Corey sensed this and slowly led Shawn, Mick, Jim, Chris, Joey, and Sid out. Craig continued after the others were long gone. "I shouldn't have done what I did. I'm sorry if I ruined our friendship, and I'm sorry if you think I'm disgusting now. Forget it even happened." 

Craig had tears in his eyes. Paul walked over to him and crouched down in front of him, gently holding his face in his hands. Craig tried to pull away but Paul wasn't letting him go. Paul looked deep into Craig's eyes, his face set in determimation. 

"I love you." He spoke clearly, sure of himself and his words. "I love you so much, man, so fuckin' much." 

Craig was properly crying now. Paul pulled him down from his chair, letting the smaller man fall into his lap, his head resting against his broad chest. Paul didn't seem to care that Craig was holding on to him like he was the only thing keeping alive. He didn't even notice the tear stains quickly making their way to his shirt. He mumbled softly to Craig until he calmed down, and even then didn't let him go. 

"I think I'd like a second go at that kiss now." Paul whispered into Craig's short hair. Craig chuckled slightly at that. He looked up and saw only love in Paul's eyes. Craig almost started crying again when they kissed - happy and content. A small part of his brain told him to stop, to run away, that what he was doing was wrong. But he didn't care. He finally found someone who loved him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dramatized some shit that happened and changed a few details from my own coming out to fit this ship better,, but MAN when i tell you that i SOBBED-


	5. Craig Has Two Hands (S/C/P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who ever said that Craig couldn't hold two hands at once?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based off of a drawing by coreytaylorhater on instagram,, i love him so much guys i- 💟❤💞💘💞💘💕💓💕💘💟💖💞💓💕💘 hes my best friend

"Hey, guys, there's fans coming up. You might wanna..." Jim nodded down to Paul and Craig's hands, which were clasped together and had been for at least an hour. Paul shrugged. Craig didn't respond at all, so Jim dropped the subject. They'd been hiding from the fans for too long, anyway, Jim thought. 

Craig had his free hand in his pocket, but took it out as soon as he spotted the crowd of people in Slipknot hoodies and t-shirts and grabbed onto Shawn's sleeve. Shawn smiled at him and took the smaller man's hand into his own. Craig loved it when they did that. Whenever Clown took over, he'd say "Your hands are meant for holding, but only by us", motioning towards himself and Paul as he spoke. That always struck a chord with Craig - he'd never imagine that he'd be lucky enough to have anyone love him the way Shawn and Paul did, but he had both of them, and he adored them. Which was good, because they adored him. 

"Hey! Paul!" One fan seemed particularly keen to get the bassist's attention. She waved him down, but he wasn't really paying attention. He was more focused on Craig's hand pressed neatly into his, his palm warm and soft. Paul loved Craig's hands. He liked how gentle yet strong they were - sturdy and beautiful against Paul's own, which he found early in their relationship to be his favourite thing about Craig's hands. "Paul!" 

"Oh, fuck, hi! Can I help you?" Paul tried to remain as present as he could, but the slight tug on his arm of Craig pulling his hand to keep him moving was too distracting. "I mean, do you-" 

"I've always had a thing for bigger guys." She said, not even waiting for Paul to finish his sentence. He blinked several times. Craig loosened his grip as soon as he heard her speak but Paul refused to let go. He wasn't going to give him up for some girl who was rude enough to interrupt people. 

"No, thanks. I'm taken." Paul held up the hand that was intertwined with Craig's and continued walking. It was now that Paul realized that Shawn had joined the hand holding and was trying not to laugh at what just happened. "What?" 

"Her face. She looked ready to cry when you lifted your hand." Shawn then raised his hand (and Craig's) to refresh the bassist's memory. Paul chuckled. Craig hummed in response, not feeling comfortable talking in front of so many strangers. Silence was to be expected. They would hear plently of Craig's words when they got away from the fans. 

It had been hours since then, and the three had been watching movies and playing video games in their hotel room with the other guys in Slipknot for that time. One by one, though, their bandmates trickled out to go to their own rooms, leaving Shawn, Craig, and Paul by themselves. The first thing they did was settle on the big king sized bed and turn on a Star Wars marathon. It was no secret that they all liked Star Wars, but no one could compete with Craig when it came to loving the series. 

"You have very pretty hands." Shawn stated randomly during a commercial break. He had been messing with Craig's hands since the middle of Episode One, and they were on Episode Four. "Very, very pretty hands." 

"Thank you. You have very pretty hands, too." Craig mumbled through Paul's sweatshirt, which he was in the middle of putting on. It was too big for him (like his own clothes, except obviously not his) but that didn't stop him from wearing Paul's shirts whenever he had the chance. Shawn had only been in the relationship for a few weeks, so they weren't at the sharing clothes stage yet, but it was definitely coming soon. Craig snuggled back down between his two boyfriends. "Any reason why you're saying that now?" 

The amused tone in Craig's voice contrasted the deadpan look on his face, making the two other men laugh. The sampler smiled, enjoying the feel of the soft rumble in Paul's chest against his side. He could've died right then and there and been completely happy. 

"You just have really fuckin' nice hands." Paul added once he stopped laughing, picking up Craig's free hand (Shawn had taken one of Craig's hands in his own as soon as he layed back down) and gently kissed the top of it. "These are some sexy hands." 

"Shut up." But Craig was blushing, and no amount of denying could change the fact that he obviously enjoyed the attention Shawn and Paul gave him. He'd been ignored too long to turn it down. 

"He's right. Sexy, sexy hands." Shawn happily continued the compliments. "Made-for-holding hands." 

"Only us, though. Only we can hold your hands." Paul was always a bit possessive, but seeing as Craig was his boyfriend, he allowed that 'little bit' to grow into 'a lot'. It was way too much fun to see the smaller man's reactions, anyways. 

"Yes. My hands are meant for my boys to hold and no one else." Craig smirked and let the sarcasm fade the longer the sentence went on. The more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. He never really liked physical touch, but somehow, with Shawn and Paul all he wanted to do was touch. He'd grown dependent on the little moments like this that they shared. Laying in bed, watching Star Wars, and living in comfortable silence as the day passed on outside, but never seemed to end inside. 

"Your boys, huh?" Paul sounded almost impressed. "What do you think, Shawn? You think we classify as Craig's boys?" Shawn pretended to think it over while Craig laughed. He loved it when they joked around like this. 

"Yeah, I think that's suitable." So be it. They are Craig's boys. The reasons why he was made with two hands instead of one. His soulmates. 


	6. He Can't Be Gone (S/C/P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn gets a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pure angst
> 
> 2010 timeframe
> 
> im sorry

Shawn's phone rang, the noise muffled in his pocket. Craig jumped at the sound. He had been on edge for days. Shawn didn't blame him. Everyone had been anxious ever since Paul disappeared. Most kept their worries to themselves, and those who let their feelings show usually ended with Craig telling them to shut up. Shawn answered the phone. 

"Hello?" Shawn made sure that it wasn't on speakerphone before he spoke. The voice on the other end sounded authoritative and sincere. Craig knew what that meant. His suspicions were confirmed by the tears forming in Shawn's eyes. The bigger man's hands were shaking, their grip loosening on the phone to the point where it fell into his lap. "No. No." 

"Is it...?" Craig's voice was soft and far away. Shawn looked at him, and he swore his heart broke. He'd never seen Craig cry before. The voice on the other end of the phone echoed too much for them to hear what it said, but it almost sounded like an apology. Shawn shakily sighed and pulled Craig into a tight hug. The sampler let out a small sound - a like kicked puppy - and collapsed into Shawn's arms. 

"He's gone." Shawn heard more than felt himself say. "I- He- Paul..." It hit him suddenly that Paul was actually _gone_ gone. It hurt him to breathe, and he couldn't see through his tears. "He's-" 

Craig composed himself quickly and pulled back from Shawn's hug, moving to hold the bigger man's face in his hands. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe. In, hold it, then out. Just like this." Craig demonstrated, then nodded for Shawn to copy him. It didn't really work, but his breathing sounded at least a bit more normal, so Craig counted it as a win. He let Shawn fall against him, the phone long forgotten and the call over. Craig held Shawn close to his body, focusing on the feel of his breathing against his arm and chest so he wouldn't break down. He'd never felt so defeated. 

After what felt like several hours but was actually just thirty minutes, Shawn sat up and wiped his face. Craig didn't bother to even look at him. If he did, he was scared he would start crying again and neither of them needed that. They needed at least one of them to be strong. Craig had mastered the art of hiding how he felt a long time ago, so this shouldn't have been as hard as it was to do. Avoiding was part of it, but he couldn't avoid his Shawn, no matter how much he reminded Craig of Paul, he just couldn't do it. The difficulty of dating two people at once is when one of them disappears, you still have the other one. Craig wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle that while knowing Paul was dead and not just out of the relationship. 

Shawn's phone rang again. Craig tensed and blinked several times to keep himself from loosing control. He had to be strong - for Shawn. 

The next few days passed in a blur. First there was the conference, then a bunch of panic about a new bassist, and then... nothing. Slipknot simply seemed to disappear. None of the guys even messaged each other. They avoided the band and they avoided the studio. Only Shawn and Craig still talked to each other, but they had a reason to. Paul was the glue that held the band together, but there was more than just Paul in Craig and Shawn's relationship. The loss was like a slap in the face. The two stuck together like glue and never let the other out of their sight for fear of what happened to Paul happening again. It was highly unlikely, but fear was never a rational creature. 

One thing that Shawn was not expecting was to get home one day to a seemingly empty house. Curiousity and panic settled in when Craig didn't reply to his call of "I'm home!". He walked around for a bit, silently as he could, before getting to his closed bedroom door. His hands were shaking as he opened the door, and almost sighed in relief when he saw Craig. Then he stopped. 

"Craig? Is that..." Shawn stepped slowly towards the bed where Craig had curled up as tight as he possibly could. He was borderline hyperventilating. "Craig?" 

The man in question had been ignoring any signs of Paul's existance ever since the phone call, but now he lay curled up with Paul's favourite sweatshirt bundled up in his arms, almost covering his whole face, just holding the fabric as close to himself as he could. The sampler didn't awknowledge Shawn or even seem to notice that he wasn't alone anymore. 

"Craig, are you okay?" 

"He was here less than two weeks ago. He should be here now. I should've done something to help him... He wouldn't be-" Craig couldn't finish his sentence. His chest felt like it was caving in on itself. Shawn sat down next to the smaller man, gently patting his shoulder but other than that not touching him. "I could've helped him." 

"You can't control what other people do, Craig. No amount of love would've changed what happened to Paul." Shawn spoke softly, carefully, as to not hurt Craig more than he already was. Frankly, he wasn't quite sure what to do. Craig had never let down his guard like this except for when they first got the call. It made Shawn nervous. "He made his choice." 

Craig bolted up, clutching the sweatshirt close to his chest still. "You say that like he wanted to die! Do you really think that he hated living so much that he'd rather die than be here!" It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Shawn was appalled. He'd never think that in a million years. He loved Paul just as much as Craig did - and clearly still does. 

"I never said that." Shawn reached out to the smaller man, hoping that touch would convey what words were failing to do. Craig all but flinched away from him. "Craig..." 

Craig sighed, tears rolling down his cheeks as he relented to Shawn's touch. The tone of his voice and all the emotional distress made Craig tired and weary. He let his head drop onto Shawn's shoulder. Paul's sweatshirt lay in a bundle in his lap. Shawn wrapped hs arms around Craig, his fingers slowly tracing the line of Craig's spine. The sampler let out a shaky breath. 

"I just wish he was here." The amount of hurt and suffering in his voice killed Shawn. He couldn't change what happened, but he could change how they reacted to it. 

"I wish he was here, too, Craig. But we can't let that destroy us. He'd want us to stick together." Shawn spoke quietly, like he was speaking to a scared animal. In hindsight, that's all anyone is. A scared animal. 

"He'd want to be with us." Craig added, shaking his head. Shawn chuckled, but it sounded more like a choked sob. The wound's still too new, he thought, but at least Craig's not yelling at him anymore. "He'd want to be alive, with us." 

Everyone wants something. Even the dead want. The rich, the poor, the old, the young. Nothing can change the fate that we've been given. We are simply vessels subjected to the cruel passage of time. Unforgiving and unjustified time, taking yet never giving. Some are just given less than others. Like Paul - he just ran out of time. 


	7. Tap Tap Tap (C/S)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig has trouble with expressing his emotions. Shawn shares a trick from his childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based off a tumblr text post that i adore

Shawn never shied away from talking about how he felt. He was raised to share, not hide, but sometimes he forgot that other people aren't like that. Most people are more comfortable keeping their emotions to themselves. Shawn had never met anyone as uncomfortable talking about their emotions as Craig, though. The sampler never spoke, let alone about himself. It just never happened. 

"I love you." Shawn smiled at Craig, but he knew that it wouldn't change anything. Craig never responded to any expressions of self unless the moment was sensitive. The moment definitely wasn't sensitive. They were just cooking dinner. Despite that fact, Shawn still felt as if he was underappreciated in the relationship due to Craig's infinite silence and non-existant visible emotional range. "Craig, do you love me?" 

Craig nodded. Shawn sighed. He expected that, but it disappointed him none-the-less. He'd thought maybe he would get audible reassurance, not a simple nod. Nodding was too easy to do when it came to that sort of thing. He wanted - no, he needed - Craig to say it back. They'd been together for a little over four years and he'd never heard Craig say that he loved him, whereas Shawn said it all the time. He needed reassurance that it wasn't just him putting effort into this. 

"Why don't you ever say that then?" Shawn set his hands flat on the counter, his head drooping so Craig wouldn't see exactly how upset he was. Craig turned to him and stared. He couldn't describe how distraught that made him feel. Of course he loved Shawn. There wasn't a single doubt in his head about that. He thought Shawn understood despite the fact that he doesn't talk much. Craig took a step toward Shawn and placed his hand on the bigger man's shoulder. His words failed him in places touch could always make up for. Craig had never been much of a talker. 

Shawn spun around and looked Craig dead in the eye. Suddenly, he knew exactly what was going wrong. He had an idea. He didn't care if it worked or not, he just needed Craig to know there was a way for things to work better. There was a glint in Shawn's eyes that Craig knew all too well and it made him sigh. Clown's ideas were always borderline incomprehensible, let alone do-able. 

"When I was growing up, my family and I used to do this thing where we'd tap each other three times to say 'I love you'. I know you don't like your words, so maybe that would work better?" Shawn placed his hands on Craig's shoulders, smiling softly when Craig gently tapped his side three times. "I knew you would like that." 

Shawn lost count of all the times he'd felt three soft pokes against his side, arms, back, thighs... Wherever Craig could reach, he'd poke. Craig had become almost dependent on the tapping. So much so that he'd begun to do it in his sleep. Shawn got overjoyed every time he felt the taps. It had only been a few months since it started, but he knew that the amount of times he'd been poked far outnumbered the times Shawn had verbally said 'I love you'.

"Hey, Craig? How come you're always poking Clown like that? Do you just like trying to annoy him or something?" Sid asked, sitting on the couch upside-down. He never sat right. Craig smiled at Shawn, hoping his boyfriend would explain so he wouldn't have to. "What? You two speak telepathically now?" 

"No, we're just decided who's gonna explain it." Shawn replied, not looking away from Craig. Sid made a noise like a broken car and Craig sighed, relenting. 

"The three taps are how I say 'I love you'." Craig was blushing. The guys in Slipknot had been aware of Craig and Shawn's relationship since day one, but that didn't seem to change how they reacted to whenever they acted like a couple. Which was usually very childish and full of teasing. Neither of them minded, though. It was amusing to watch their best friends loose their minds every time they held hands. 

"Why don't you just say 'I love you' then?" Jim interjected, his question genuine. He was lucky enough to be able to trust his words and not fear they would be wrong. "It takes a lot less than tapping him to death." 

"It means more." Craig shrugged. Jim nodded as if he understood exactly what Craig meant. He obviously didn't. Luckily enough for Craig, though, Jim's not the one he's dating. Shawn understands him completely. They have their arguments, but what healthy couple doesn't? 

They have their ways, whether the others get it or not. Just because someone doesn't say 'I love you' doesn't mean that thet don't love you. Sometimes you gotta meet them halfway. 


	8. Your Eyes (C/S)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world where everyone's eyes are grey, and only your soulmate can see their true colour.

He'd never payed much attention to the people around him. He'd never tried to look at their faces. He knew what he'd see there - disappointment, anxiety, fear. Lost souls searching for the one they could finally call "mine". He knew he'd never find his "mine". Hell, he was almost thirty and still alone. Most found their soulmates by twenty. Not him, though. Never him. 

Craig had settled with the crushing reality of being soulmateless a few days after his twenty-fifth birthday. All of his friends had their soulmates, but he didn't. He was the odd man out. Then again, he never minded being left behind in things. Silence was the only soulmate he'd let himself accept. Then he joined a band. It didn't work out, but hey, it was fun. 

A few years later one of his ex-bandmates (Nathan, was it?) ran up to him as he walked home from work. The short, almost feminine, twenty-something was out of breath and had a look on his face that Craig had to force himself to not flinch at. He knew that look. Nathan's cold, grey eyes shone brightly. 

"Hey! Craig! Long time no see, huh?" Craig was just about to respond when Nathan carried on. "Um, you still play guitar, right? Well, I'm in a band now and we need a guitarist. I told Shawn - my bandmate - I knew a good guitar player and he's kinda expecting you to show and-" 

"If I say 'yes' will you leave me alone?" Craig folded his arms across his chest and sighed. He liked Nathan, but the kid could be overbearing at best. Nathan smiled, nodded, and continued. 

"So, you're in?" 

"Sure-" 

"Great! Here's Shawn's address." Nathan slapped a paper against Craig's hand and started jogging away. "Practice is at 7 PM sharp! In the basement! If you're late you're out!" 

Craig rolled his eyes, unimpressed. He turned the paper over and inspected the address before shoving it deep into his pocket. He checked his watch - 5:36. He had time to go home, shower, change from his work clothes, and have dinner. He had always been quick to get things done. 

At 6:30 Craig left his apartment and started the walk to Shawn's house. He'd never met this Shawn before. Frankly, he hated meeting new people. He never knew how to act or what to say to them, so he stayed silent and by himself until he felt comfortable. Him 'feeling comfortable' was a rare occurance. He let this train of thought continue as he walked. He liked thinking. The only thing that could judge his thoughts was himself. 

Craig stood, immobilized, at Shawn's door. The house was nice but not too nice. It had a small porch and a good sized yard - perfect for a small family just starting out. That thought made Craig's cheeks burn with anxiety. He didn't want to intrude on a house with a family in it. The weight of his guitar strapped around his shoulders steeled him and kept his thoughts from taking him too far. The door opened before he even knocked. 

"Craig, thank God, I thought you weren't gonna come!" Nathan dragged Craig in by his arm. Craig held his guitar strap tightly, letting the feel of the rough material in his palm distract him from how panicky being touched made him feel. "So, Shawn's downstairs right now, but I have to warn you." 

"War-... Warn me?" Craig's voice went from it's normal pitch to slightly higher as Nathan turned and stared him dead in the eyes. Cold, grey, almost emotionless eyes. Sometimes the lack of colour scared Craig. A lot of minute details about people did. Like the way some people spoke, or the way they moved their hands when they spoke, or if someone approached him randomly for any reason at all. 

"Yeah. Shawn can be... a lot to take in. He's a genius, but he's limited to a human body and human words and human expression. He's not meant for that. He needs a different, less restricting, form of art to really show his perception of reality." Nathan never spoke like that unless it was absolutely necessary. The fact that Nathan believed Shawn needed to be talked about in that way intimidated and intrigued Craig all at once. "But, trust me, you'll love him. He's a really good guy, and-" 

"Joey, is this your guitar player?" Craig turned to the voice and literally almost choked. From Nathan's (or is it Joey?) description, he was expecting someone who looked more like Albert Einstein. This guy looked _normal_. Well, except for his eyes. His eyes were bright blue. "Uh..." 

"Uhm." Craig found himself wanting to talk, but he didn't know how to. How was someone supposed to talk to their "mine"? Nathan just stood beside Craig, looking between the two, trying to figure out why they just kept staring at each other but couldn't. He could only see grey. 

"I, uh, I like your eyes." Shawn mumbled after a few moments of awkward silence. Craig looked from the man, to the carpet, back to the man. He almost didn't seem real. But he was, he was standing right in front of him and he was smiling and his eyes were _blue_. Not dead and unfeeling grey, but bright and welcoming and intense and _blue_. 

"I like your eyes, too." 


	9. The Writing on My Skin (C/P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulmates have the first words their soulmate will ever say to them permanantly embedded in their skin. Every day Paul stares at his arm, wondering who the fuck would scream "YOU IDIOT YOU CAN'T JUST PUT LIQUIDS NEXT TO MY COMPUTER" at him.

Paul sighed as he put his bass back into its case. He had his sleeves rolled up (something he barely ever did around other people), yet no one seemed to care. The other guys in Slipknot wore their soulmate's words on their arms like trophies, but Paul could never bring himself to feel any confidence in his. Who would feel comfortable sharing an insult in capslock? 

Corey jumped on Paul's back, suprising him out of his thoughts. A loud bang of thunder shook the room. Despite being raised in Iowa, Joey jumped and let out a harsh whine. 

"Earth to Paulie! You alive in there, man?" The singer let go and let himself fall onto the floor in a heap of cloth and bone. Paul pulled his sleeves down over his hands. "You spaced out. Thought you turned into Craig for a second." 

"How could I turn into someone else?" Paul smiled, but something was bothering him. He couldn't quite place his finger on it. "It's physically impossible." 

"Ask Clown and he'd tell you that you're wrong." Corey got off of the floor and disappeared somewhere. Paul rubbed his eyes as if seeing was causing him to feel off so suddenly. Sight was definitely not the source of his problem. Paul concluded that getting absolutely shitfaced was the best way to deal with his dread. When in doubt, get drunk was his motto and he'd stuck by it since he found out how fun getting drunk was. Besides, the excuse got him out of practically everything. 

Thanking God for the genius who put a fridge in the studio building, Paul got himself a beer and settled down on the couch in the corner of the room. He was perfectly fine just sitting there - calm, happy. And then the power went out with a particularly loud thunder strike. 

Paul got up, sipping from the can in his hand as he blindly wandered around. The back-up generators kicked on but the lights were still too dim to really see anything. Paul used his free hand to lead himself around until he got to the room where he knew there was someone who could help - the computer room. Craig practically lived in there, and the dude could figure out how things worked in two seconds flat. Paul opened the door and smiled to himself. Craig was busying himself with restarting the computer he was using. 

"Stupid thunderstorms... Messing up our shit..." Craig grumbled as he worked, unaware of the presence behind him. "God dammit, stupid machine..." 

"Swearing at it won't change the fact that the power's out, Jonesy." Paul teased, patting the sampler on the shoulder as he sat in a nearby office chair. He set his beer down on the table. Craig scoffed at him. Then he froze, turning to stare at the bassist with wide eyes. "What?" 

Craig quickly glanced at the can right next to a clump of wires that somehow plugged into the computer. Suddenly, he was off the floor and Paul's beer was halfway across the room. Paul groaned. 

"YOU IDIOT YOU CAN'T JUST PUT LIQUIDS NEXT TO MY COMPUTER!" Craig shouted, turning to the bassist and waving his hands around as if he hadn't just thrown a full can of beer across the room. "WERE YOU RAISED IN A FUCKING BARN?!" 

"No, I was raised in- Wait a minute. Repeat what you just said." Paul turned serious. He knew that series of words too well. Something about it was too familiar for him. Craig crossed his arms over his chest, and for the first time since they met less than a year a ago, Paul saw his soulmate mark.

"Swearing at it won't change the fact that the power's out, Jonesy." The black lettering contrasted well with Craig's fair skin. Paul kept staring, even after Craig hid his arm from view. 

"You-... Are we?" Paul's voice was quiet. Maybe too quiet for Craig to hear, but the power came back on and suddenly Paul could see the fear in the sampler's eyes. "Hey, what's the fear for? Are you scared of the dark?" 

Paul's tone was soft and sincere. Craig just looked at him, still afraid despite the kind gesture. Paul stood up and stepped towards the smaller man. He hoped Craig would stop being so crypric and just talk to him, but hoping was going to get him nowhere. With Craig you just had to _do_

"There's nothing to be scared of. The lights are back on!" Paul smiled softly, but the look on Craig's face didn't change. He was still just standing there. Still, silent, staring. It made Paul nervous. Had he done something wrong? "Craig, are you okay?" 

"Ever since I got that mark I thought that only the biggest idiot on the planet would be stuck with me... Turns out I was right." Craig blinked slowly, smiling. Paul was in disbelief. Craig had fooled him so easily. That's just what happens when you care, Paul guessed. "Sorry if I freaked you out for a moment, there. I just couldn't help it." 

Craig laughed, and suddenly everything was good. Paul chuckled and pulled Craig into a crushing hug. 

"I am an idiot, because it took me this long to talk to you." Both of them then realized how long they had known each other, how long they had talked around each other but not to each other, and how much angst they had caused by halting this for so long. Craig wrapped his arms as tightly around Paul as he could. He finally had his soulmate, and he wasn't letting go. 


	10. I'll Be With You (C/P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul can tell when Craig's not okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soft boyfriends!!! hell yeah
> 
> based off that one angsty sound on tiktok ppl like to make sad povs wit,, kinda ironic considerin this is a Soft Cute Shit chapter
> 
> sorry this ones so short it was gonna b a werewolf au but i started hatin it so i changed it to this last minute

Paul enjoyed interviews. Then again, he loved social interaction, so being able to talk about the music he loved and there being people who geniunely enjoyed it as much as he did was a dream come true. It was only him, Corey, Joey, and Chris at this particular interview. The others either didn't want to do it or were too busy. Paul was fine with that. Besides, interviewing nine guys at once is a choatic mistake at best. 

Corey knew that Paul loved interviews, so he didn't know why the bassist was so morose and quiet all of a sudden. Paul sat, slouching slightly, as he stared off into space with a dull glaze over his eyes. With a mask over his face, Corey couldn't tell if Paul was upset or bored. He gently nudged Paul's side and whispered while Joey went off on one of his tangents. 

"You good?" Corey mumbled, leaning closer to Paul so he could hear. That close, Corey could hear Paul mumbling something to himself - carefully, as if speaking was a sacred act reserved for only the highest esteemed creatures. "Paul?" 

"I'm good, I just-... Would it be rude if I left?" Paul spoke louder so everyone would hear his question. "Sorry, I just realized I need to do something. Like, right now." 

"What? Oh, no, yeah, go on ahead." The interviewer seemed chill with the interruption but was obviously a bit miffed about the bassist leaving. 'They'll get over it', Paul thought as he stood and walked out. As the door closed behind him, he took off his mask and attatched it to his belt so he would at least have his hands free. Luckily for him, it was only a five minute walk from where they were being interviewed to where all the others in Slipknot were at. 

As soon as he got to the rest of his bandmates, he bee-lined straight for Craig. The sampler was always quiet - resilliant, even - but he usually never looked like he was contemplating whether or not wanting to impale himself with his spikes was a good thing. Paul pulled Craig into a soft hug, whispering to him like a scared child. 

"I got sad during the interview, so I knew something was wrong." The bassist mumbled into Craig's shoulder. Craig returned the hug, slowly. "I'll be with you from dusk 'till dawn, you know that, don't you?" 

"I know." Craig replied in a light voice that Paul could barely hear. Craig and Paul had always said "from dusk 'til dawn" to each other in leu of "I love you". It just had more weight to it. It felt more solid, more real. Paul squeezed Craig gently before letting go. He rested his palm against the side of Craig's face, rustling the sampler's short hair with the tips of his fingers as they smiled at each other. 

"If you ever need me, I'm right here." 

"I know. But for how long?" 

"Baby, I'm always gonna be right here." 


	11. Jester Jester Part One (S/C/P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you're in a polyamourous relationship? A group chat, of course!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ao3 is still Not Letting Me Use Rich Text so this is gonna be ugly n Difficult so im sorry if its janky :/
> 
> kinda like a modern au but not really
> 
> warning for a slight nsfw reference lmao

** _ PapaCrahan has created a group chat! _ **

** _ PapaCrahan has added ballsy_boy and 133MHz to the group chat! _ **

** ballsy_boy: ** shawn wtf is this we already have a gc 

** PapaCrahan: ** That's the band group chat, this is the gay group chat. 

** PapaCrahan: ** Now we can talk without those idiots spying in on us. :) 

** ballsy_boy: ** i love the keyboard emoji mister papa ;P 

** 133MHz: ** Paul, can you not 

** ballsy_boy: ** im a pain in the ass 24/7 babby!!! cringe culture is dead!!! kill a cop idc 

** PapaCrahan: ** Literally none of those things are connected but they're all correct. 

** 133MHz: ** Wow, both my boyfriends are ACABs 

** 133MHz: ** Good for you guys, though! Kill those cops 

** ballsy_boy: ** see?? he gets it 

** PapaCrahan: ** Yeah, yeah, cops are bad, but can we please talk about how bad Paul's spelling is? 

** ballsy_boy: ** hey!!! i can spell!!!! im jus stupid is all!!!! 

** ballsy_boy: ** i jus heard craig laughin in his bunk i consider that a win 

** PapaCrahan: ** Please stop torturing our poor boy, his lungs will implode. 

** ballsy_boy: ** oh so your craigist now??? what happened to you lovin his laugh huh papa what happened 

** 133MHz: ** Guys please Sid just tried to snatch my phodmdmzmmkkmmkkmmmmmmmm 

** ballsy_boy: ** well shit he dead 

** PapaCrahan: ** "well shit he dead" PAUL ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? 

** 133MHz: ** y do u guys not love me :((( 

** ballsy_boy: ** sid give craig his phone back before he kills you dawg like fr 

** PapaCrahan: ** Can you two type like normal human beings or is that illegal is Dumbass Land? 

** ballsy_boy: ** its illegal papa man 

** 133MHz: ** If Sid keeps this up we're not going to have a DJ by the time we get to the next hotel, I swear to God 

** ballsy_boy: ** oh?? go off baby snatch sids dirty litle rat wig 

** 133MHz: ** Were any of those words English 

** PapaCrahan: ** Apparently typing comprehensibly is illegal for him. 

** 133MHz: ** Makes sense 

~~~~~~ HOURS LATER ~~~~~ 

** PapaCrahan: ** Paul, we can hear you. Stop trying to piss Mick off, you're gonna get punched. 

** ballsy_boy: ** bold of you to assume i dont crave the sweet release of death 

** 133MHz: ** Corey has ten suicide prevention hotlines on a sheet of paper somewhere 

** ballsy_boy: ** it was a joke baby i dont need a suicide prevention hotline 

** PapaCrahan: ** The way you type makes me want to commit suicide. 

** 133MHz: ** Is it a rule to worry me now or something? What the fuck did I miss when Sid stole my phone 

** ballsy_boy: ** shawn started it 

** PapaCrahan: ** Fuck you. 

** ballsy_boy: ** i hate to bring it up but youve done that to us both within the passed week 

** 133MHz: ** Paul, why did you bring that up I hate you 

** ballsy_boy: ** please dont kill me i have so much to live for 

** PapaCrahan: ** I thought you craved the sweet release of death? 

** ballsy_boy: ** oh my god....

** 133MHz: ** You guys aren't allowed to communicate anymore 

** 133MHz: ** If you talk to each other I'll punch you both in the face 

** PapaCrahan: ** Oh, come on, Craigy. You move to a different spot if there's an ant there and you apologize to it. You won't hurt us. 

** ballsy_boy: ** he does?????? i thought he was movin so someone else could sit there i wasnt aware that he was talkin to ANTS 

** 133MHz: ** Well, the ants have done nothing wrong and don't deserve any harm. You guys, however, I would maim 

** PapaCrahan: ** Would or could? 

** ballsy_boy: ** you APOLOGIZE to ANTS for SITTING NEAR THEM???????? 

** 133MHz: ** Yes, I do, because it's rude to invade their space if they were there first 

** 133MHz: ** And I would (not could) hurt you guys because I'd die from the guilt 

** ballsy_boy: ** wow shawn can you believe we have the softest boy in the whole world 

** PapaCrahan: ** It took you this long to notice? I'm a bit disappointed, Paul, really. 

** ballsy_boy: ** i noticed before im jus usin the situation to my advantage its called tact papa 

** PapaCrahan: ** Why do you only call me 'Papa' over text? 

** 133MHz: ** That was anti-climactic 

** ballsy_boy: ** mick would body slam me if he heard me unironically call any one in this band 'papa' and that terrifies the absolute living shit outta me so :/ 

** PapaCrahan: ** Mick's bared witness to Joey crying over the heels of his platforms being slightly scuffed - he wouldn't even care if you jacked off in his face. 

** 133MHz: ** Ope- 

** ballsy_boy: ** oh my GOD shawn you are so right 

~~~~~ HOURS LATER ~~~~~ 

** 133MHz: ** I've got a problem 

** ballsy_boy: ** whos phone do i have to steal 

** 133MHz: ** What? 

** ballsy_boy: ** what?? 

** PapaCrahan: ** What's your problem, baby? 

** 133MHz: ** Corey's drunk and keeps trying to kiss Jim and Jim's been using me as a shield 

** ballsy_boy: ** hnk- 

** PapaCrahan: ** Oh, my God... 

** 133MHz: ** I'm being serious 

** ballsy_boy: ** honestly id try to kiss jim if i was drunk too 

** ballsy_boy: ** jims snexcy 

** 133MHz: ** You say to your boyfriends 

** PapaCrahan: ** He's not wrong though. 

** 133MHz: ** Oh Jesus 


	12. Sensitive (S/C/P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a discovery is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> craig aka "ops vent character" aka happy late birthday mister jones akfmalal

** _ February. 2005. _ **

Craig tapped his fingers on the table in front of him, his mind drifting as his other hand was splayed out in his short hair, twirling small strands in relaxingly slow circles. Craig's mind wandered to the farthest galaxies processable by the human brain. There, there was no such thing as emotions, thoughts, sights, or noises. All was calm in this little realm he had made for himself. Then Corey was yelling. 

"Guess who has a birthday soon and didn't fucking tell us!" The singer shouted joyfully as he wrapped his arm around Craig's shouders. "This motherfucker right here turns however-the-fuck old on the goddamn eleventh!" 

Craig shied away from Corey's grasp and clasped his hands together in his lap. People were looking at him. He didn't want people to look at him. He wanted to be left alone - alone in his own little world, his own void - but yet he was stuck _here_, and people were looking at him. Corey touching him wasn't helping.

"Wait, really?" Chris looked at Craig, surprised, then at Corey. "How'd you figure that out?" Corey shrugged, smiling wide. 

"Huh. I didn't think cryptids even _had_ birthdays." Paul murmured, causing several of his bandmates to laugh. Craig flinched at the sound. Everything was too loud. He could hear his skin moving against his clothes and he hated it. He wanted all the sounds to stop dead in the air and never reach his ears. But, this was the real world, and things are always going to be too much. 

"And your little cryptid isn't too happy about that, so why don't we all shut up about it." Craig grumbled after a few moments of collecting the strength to destroy what little remained of his connection to serenity. "Please." 

"Oh. Sorry." Chris apologized, but everyone kept talking, and Corey wasn't letting him go, and he could feel the marrow of his bones decaying under his skin, and he just wanted it all to stop. He wanted - no, needed - his brain to stop feeling like it was scattered all throughout space like it had exploded and left him in pieces all over the galaxies. The Milky Way was stained with his blood and he wished more than anything to wipe it clean. Craig just wanted to see the stars without feeling _guilty_. 

Craig scratched at his thighs nervously. The fabric of his shorts scrunched up as his nails pushed deep into his skin. The pain steeled him to reality and made all the other things bothering him seem small. If he didn't have one big thing to block out the many little things, he'd make his own. His own just so happened to be scratching himself until he bled. 

Shawn pulled on his wrists suddenly, yanking Craig's hands away from his legs. Craig looked down and focused on the raw red patches on his thighs as Shawn mumbled to him softly about why he shouldn't do that. He wasn't listening. Craig was too far into his thoughts about how nice and soft Shawn's hair looked as it fell into his lap. Out of the corner of his eye, Craig could see that everyone else had left.

Shawn had been growing his hair out for years now, and Craig always had to deny himself the simple act of reaching out and touching the golden waves. Now, though, Shawn's hair was touching _him_, so it was fair game. Shawn had let go of Craig's wrists and was making a fuss over how Craig could've really hurt himself. Craig slowly let his fingers loop around a stray strand of hair as Shawn groveled him. 

"You have to be careful-... What are you doing?" The percussionist looked suprised by the gesture. Craig carefully curled his pointer finger around Shawn's hair. Shawn immediately stopped moving, shifting his sight from the gentle hand in his hair to Craig's face - calm and happy. Shawn smiled softly as Craig slowly moved his fingers in the bigger man's hair.

"Your hair is very soft." Craig said after a while. Shawn smiled wider. 

"Thank you." Shawn couldn't really help but feel ecstactic at the interaction. Craig usually ignored everyone, but he specifically acknowledged Shawn and it made him feel important. Special, even. If it was anybody else, though, he would have told them to fuck off for trying to touch his hair. Craig has always been able to get away with crossing Shawn's boundaries without even realizing that he was crossing a boundary. It amazed Shawn at how easy it was for Craig to deeply impact him. 

The room fell into silence once more. Craig reluctantly removed his hand from Shawn's hair and Shawn forced the stupid smile from his face. Craig looked him dead in the eye, smiled and nodded appreciatively, and then looked away - as if seeing Shawn's eyes had embarrassed him. Dejected, Shawn stood up, his legs numb from crouching for so long. Suddenly Craig stood up and gently kissed Shawn's cheek. 

"Thank you." He said, quietly as if there were other people around and he didn't want them to hear. "Thank you for being so nice to me, and for treating me like an actual person." 

"No problem." Shawn subconsciously rested his hands on Craig's sides. His legs no longer felt numb. If they did, excitement and joy flooded the discomfort out. Shawn always knew that he liked Craig a lot, but he didn't expect himself to like Craig _this_ much. Then again, he wasn't complaining. 

"Well, well, well. What's goin' on here?" Paul had walked in without either of them noticing. Craig pulled away from Shawn's grasp and fell into his chair. Shawn blushed and stepped back a few paces - as if Paul hadn't already seen them. "I was joking, you know. I don't care what you two do." 

Paul was smiling, but his eyes were sad. He had always suspected something would happen between Shawn and Craig. That didn't change how jealous it made him to see it. The thing is, he couldn't quite tell who he was more jealous of. 

"Really? Because you look like you're about to cry." Shawn was concerned more about why Paul looked close to tears rather than if he was being honest or not. Paul smiled weakly and quickly left the room, practically slamming the door shut. Craig jumped at the noise. Shawn sighed.

_ ** LATER ON ** _

"So, you and Shawn, huh?" Paul tried to sound nonchalant, but by the look on Craig's face he could tell that it didn't work. Craig tilted his head to the side, confused. 

"What do you mean, 'me and Shawn'?" Craig crossed his arms over his chest indignantly. He was never one for getting defensive, but the way Paul asked made him feel that it was necessary. "There is no 'me and Shawn'." 

"Oh really? Because from what I saw earlier there _is_ a 'you and Shawn'." Paul replied, copying Craig's stance. The sampler let his arms fall down to his sides as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Ah, so I've struck a nerve?" 

"You're reading too far into it." 

"What part of witnessing you to flirt is 'reading too far into it'?" Paul put air quotes around the last bit, emphasising his point. Craig realized the hole he had dug himself into too late but couldn't find a way out. His only option was to dig deeper. 

"Why do you care so much? Are you in love with him or something?" Paul stopped automatically, stuttering quietly. He didn't expect Craig to point it out so quick into this argument. "Oh." 

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it's not just him." Paul was blushing as he spoke. 

"What does that mean?" Sometimes Craig's obliviousness made Paul want to punch him in the face. 

"It means I can't tell who I was more jealous of - you or Shawn." 

"Oh." 

"Are you mad at me? Can you please just say something?" Paul usually prided himself in his ability to read and understand Craig's thoughts and emotions, but right now, he couldn't. It was as if his understanding of Craig flew out the window just as the simpicity in their friendship had. 

"I think I'm gonna go for a walk." Craig stood and brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt, not looking at Paul. Paul made a soft noise of disappointment in the back of his throat but didn't say anything. What was he supposed to do? Make it more awkward? Paul stared at a spot on the floor. "... You're free to join me, if you want. Might go get a beer - if you're interested." 

"What?" 

"I'm trying to make this less awkward. Is it working?" Craig fiddled with his hands, face red and obviously nervous. Paul chuckled softly. 

"Is Shawn gonna come with us?" 


	13. In Which Shawn is a Proud Boyfriend (C/S)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn gets a new shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short but i was laughing hysterically so yeehaw i guess also happy valentines day

Shawn grinned wildly as he marched in the front door to his and Craig's house. He shut it loudly, hoping the noise would summon his boyfriend. His hopes were answered almost automatically. Craig snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around Shawn's middle (well, as around as he could get). Craig nuzzled into Shawn's shoulder as Shawn did his best to walk with the human embodiment of a koala stuck to his back.

"I got you something." Shawn said as soon as he walked far enough into the house to where Craig couldn't shove him out the door and lock him out for the night. Which has happened more than once. "I think you'll really like it, so before you go judging me-" 

"Just tell me what it is." Craig murmured against Shawn's back. 

"You're gonna have to let go of me first." Shawn could barely contain his laughter. He didn't have to see Craig's face to know he was confused as to what that meant. "Just-... trust me." 

"Okay... Now, what-" Craig cut himself off as Shawn turned around. Craig stared at Shawn for a moment before sighing heavily. "You're not seriously keeping that, are you?" 

"Oh, yes I am. It's the best thing I own." Shawn laughed at the disgusted look on Craig's face. "Don't you love it?" 

"How can I love 'The Enormity of My Desire Disgusts Me', Shawn?" Craig was serious as he placed his head in his hands. Shawn just laughed harder. Craig rolled his eyes, ready to kick Shawn out for the night (again). 

"I'm gonna wear this shirt everywhere now. There is no stopping me. I'll fight God before this thing comes off." Shawn gestured to the shirt, completely and entirely amused by his little gift to mostly himself. Craig huffed. 

"I saw God and she's standing outside 7/11 asking people for crack money and ten cent sex. She'd kick your ass." 

"Oh, so you think I'm scared of a crackhead?" Shawn pulled Craig into a bonecrushing hug, his chin resting on Craig's head. "Well, then, you are absolutely correct; crackheads scare the ever-loving shit out of me." 

"Really?" 

"Yes, really." 

"Then return this shirt and buy me some new double A's. My controller keeps dying and we're out of batteries." Craig lightly kissed Shawn's jaw and removed himself from the percussionist's hug, smiling. "Love you, though." 


	14. my boy (C/S)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn and Jim talk. Volume Three is about more than you'd think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kinda gave up on this one so the ending is rushed and therefore shitty so id just skip it

"Is it just me or does Craig seem different lately?" Jim asked, giving Shawn a look that said "if you don't answer me I'll throw a fit". Seeing as Shawn was the only other person in the room, he had no choice to begin with. 

"Don't look at me! I'm only dating the guy - what he does doesn't bother me as long as it's not dangerous." Shawn replied defensively. Jim raised his eyebrows at him, almost bored. Shawn sighed. "He does seem a bit more quiet than usual."

"A bit?" Jim's eyebrows rose higher. By now they almost blended into his hairline. "The dude's basically a shell of who he once was. It's like he's a walking corpse that only reanimates himself or you. He becomes alive when you talk to him, but as soon as you look away it's like any traces of the man he was are dead. He dies when you move on from him." 

"You're starting to sound a lot like me." Shawn smiled, but there was no real emotion behind it. Vague fear, yes. Happiness? God, no. There was no happiness here. He'd sooner submit to the Clown - who, to him, is like Satan himself - than find joy in the predicament of loving Craig Jones in the way he was cornered into loving him. It was the only way Craig allowed love in his life, really. 

"Well, I have to sound like you. Ever since you and Craig got together, he's disappeared emotionally and Clown's taken a permanant vacation. We all know that Clown controlls the darker visions of yours." 

"I don't hide that fact nor will I deny it." 

"And you shouldn't. But, somehow, all this shit is connected. For some reason Craig thinks he has to shut down for everyone except you for you to love him. Clown disappeared as soon as you and Craig got together - which we're all glad for, really - but it's worrying. Show him the truth, make him who he was again. Force him to see the reality of what love is so he stops hiding from us." 

Shawn tried not to cringe at that. The way Jim worded it made it sound like Craig's independence and consent to anything that went on in the relationship was a mere fly in comparison to the bear of this plan Jim had created. Jim sensed the hesitation immediately. 

"Hey, it's not like I'm telling you to force yourself on him or something. Far from it! He just needs guidance in how healthy relationships work. Which, quite frankly, I don't think he's ever had." 

"I know, it's just that getting Craig to understand things the way we do is like getting Clown to understand human emotion - it just doesn't work. Craig's always been able to understand Clown better than everyone else. He's smarter than he looks and I'm not Clown." Shawn felt himself starting to ramble, but he couldn't seem to get himself to stop. His mouth just wouldn't quit. "There's so many factors in this that I don't think we'd ever be able to account for them all. Craig could misunderstand, I could misword something and cause an unnecessary rift, I cou-" 

"You know, a simple, "Hey, Craig, I think our relationship is a bit toxic and that we both need a better grasp of how healthy love works before we get too deep into this" would work just fine." Jim cut Shawn off before he got consumed by his thoughts. The "what if"s would kill him faster in his head than in practice. 

"I don't know. I feel like I should rehearse, or something." Shawn scratched at his arms nervously. Jim sighed as he rolled his eyes. For someone seemingly so immune to non-violent negativity, he sure was sensative on the basis of dating. 

"For someone so seemingly immune to non-violent negativity, you sure are sensative on the basis of dating." 

"Not dating." Shawn corrected. "Just Craig. He's the only weakness of mine that I'd be willing to admit." 

"Alright, then. Let's practice. I'll pretend to be Craig, and you be yourself, I guess." Jim, despite thinking this to be possibly the weirdest thing he's ever done, was very happy to at least be helping. He was tired of the tense atmosphere this created strangling every conversation. "Okay, go." 

"This is stupid." Shawn's tone went flat. 

"And you're dating an emotionally unavailable nerd with committment issues. I don't think you really have to right to call anything 'stupid', Crahan." Jim forced his face to remain dull and voice softly empty. Shawn blinked at him several times, more suprised by Jim referring to him by his last name than anything, as he slowly began to understand what the guitarist was trying to do. 

"Did you just call Cr- I mean, _yourself_ \- stupid? Because that is the complete opposite of the truth." 

"Is it? Or are you just biased?" Jim leaned forward in his chair, a silent challenge that he knew would make Shawn uncomfortable. He was going by any means necessary to make this more difficult than he knew it would be on purpose. Squash all of Shawn's fear in one go and save Craig the misfortune of Shawn with no trust in himself. "You are a very biased man, Crahan." 

"Who isn't? Because- Wait a minute, Craig would never say that. He may be emotionally distant but he's not cruel. And he uses my first name, never my last." Shawn rubbed his eyes carefully. "Besides, you make me feel like you're trying to get us to break up." 

"Maybe we should. We're both terribly inexperienced in romance." Jim, still trying to impersonate Craig, twirled one section of his beard between his fingers idly. Shawn sighed heavily. 

"Yeah, but at least we're trying to make it work." Shawn was talking to Jim _about_ Craig, not Jim-Pretending-to-be-Craig, but it could've worked both ways. Jim thought so, at least. He sat back in his chair. Near excitement of this petty conversation made him want to keep it going. 

"Maybe trying to make it work isn't enough." Jim-Craig replied, voice dead. Face void of all emotion as Shawn looked up at his through his fingers, distraught. Jim felt a pang of guilt but forced it away. He had to get this done. "Maybe it'd be best if we cut it off now, before anyone gets hurt." 

"Stop it." Shawn was close to tears now. He didn't want this to start, let alone go on any longer. He just wanted Jim to stop pretending to be Craig and to go back to the jovial airiness their talks usually had. "Please, don't say that." 

"What? It's the truth. We should break up." 

"Shut up!" Shawn stood suddenly, fists clenched. A small gasp made Shawn and Jim jump. Turning to the sound, none other than Craig himself stood in the door. Shawn immediately softened, worried. Craig all but ran out as he slammed the door. Shawn turned to Jim. "Look at what you fucking did! Now he thinks I'm fucking cheating on him - with you, of all people!" 

"Ouch. That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" 

"I don't care. I'm mad at you." Shawn stormed out, intent on following Craig no matter how far away he had gone. Shawn was willing to follow Craig to the ends of the Earth if he so wished. "Craig! Come back, please!" 

Silence. The only noises were from Shawn walking and the old house settling. Despite it being only five in the evening, it was already dark. The faint lights inside The Mansion cast everything into an eerie, dark shadow. Shawn walked faster. 

"Craig! Please come talk to me." 

"I don't want to talk to you." Craig had somehow gotten behind Shawn without him noticing. Shawn must've walked passed him. He felt more relief that Craig was acknowledging him than any sadness of what he said could bring him. Shawn reached out to Craig, hoping to at least touch his shoulder. Craig flinched away as if the touch burned him. Craig stood, facing away from Shawn, with his hands in his pockets. 

"Look, I know you don't want to talk to me right now, but-" 

"Ever." Craig stated, his emotional distress clear in his eyes even though the rest of his face was set in a calm determination. "I don't want to talk to you _ever_." 

"-but it's not what it looked like it was! We were just talking about how different you've been lately and-" 

"And you've clearly got a full artillery of excuses, none of which I want to hear, so just admit that Jim's more interesting than I could ever be and get on with it."

"I don't think that! I could never-" 

"Well, sure did seem to think so a few minutes ago!" Craig turned toward Shawn, giving the percussionist a clear view of his face and the tears in his eyes. "Fuck this, if it's over, it's over! I don't even care." 

"Don't say that, Craigy. It's not over - you know I'd never want to break up with you." Shawn tried once again to at least touch Craig but all he got in return was Craig slapping his hand away. 

"Yeah, well, you should've thought of that before you went around gallavanting with Jim." Craig hissed, wiping his face as he spoke. Shawn sighed in defeat. This was not working out the way it was supposed to. A soft knock on the wall made the two men jump. 

"Sorry I I'm interrupting, but um... I just wanted to see if I could help." 

Speak of the fucking Devil. 

"You've helped enough, James." Shawn lowered his voice but never took his eyes off of Craig, who had been taking small steps backward and was now about to close the door to the room he had snuck into. "Go fuck up someone else's relationship." 

"I was trying to help you fix your's, not break it! See, this is what I mean when I say that Craig's emotionally unavailable." Jim crossed his arms over his chest defensively. Craig blinked in confusion - what the hell did that mean? "He takes everything the wrong way." 

"No he doesn't. You just 'help' the wrong way." Shawn snapped and Jim made a face. 

"How was I supposed to know that my impersonation of Craig would be scarilly accurate?" Jim spoke and Shawn just rolled his eyes. 

"... What are you talking about?" Craig stepped out of the doorway and back into the hallway. "You were... impersonating me?" 

"Yeah. Because you need some serious help in terms of how relationships work." 

"You mean this is all just one big understanding because, what, you were scared to talk to me about it? Seriously?" If it weren't for the fact that he was emotionally exhausted Craig would've been angry enough to kill Jim where he stood. But he wouldn't actually do that. Jail isn't exactly on his To-Do list. "All this drama over a little miscommunication..." 

"I tried to explain it to you." Shawn pointed out. Craig looked at him, embarrassment clear on his face. 

"Sorry. I was kinda caught up in the fact that I thought you were cheating on me with Jim." 

"Hey! You say that like I'm the worst possible option." Jim pouted, causing Craig and Shawn to laugh slightly. Jim looked between the two of them and the reason why they were together finally clicked for him. "You two make a good couple, though. Just a few things to work out here and there... Like, communication skills. And not just between the two of you." 

"Since when were you a relationship guru?" Shawn chuckled softly as Craig huddled against his side - an apology. Shawn smiled and Jim deadpanned. 

"Since my friends became socially inept." 


	15. Do It For Him (C/P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if he was found before it was too late and survived? This is what happens after Paul gets home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i got the title of this chapter from steven universe
> 
> whatre you gonna do?? call rebecca sugar on me???

Paul sat on his couch, slumped into the arm-rest and legs half propped up on the furniture. He had turned the TV on to some show on the Animal Planet but he wasn't paying attention to it. He couldn't when it was muted and the evening sun shone so bright in his face. He wanted to go over and close the blinds, but he was specifically told to not do much of any physical thing by about ten different medical professionals before he was released from the hospital. Paul didn't want to go back there any time soon, so he stayed still. 

He had been in the hospital for over two and a half years - partly because he had gone so far that he had put himself into a coma and partly because the doctors wanted to keep him for a bit to make sure he was stable. Sid joked that they just wanted to dry out his insurance. 

"Dude, I swear, when I broke my legs they didn't even keep me for this long." The DJ had leaned so far over so Paul could hear his whispering that he ended up falling out of his chair. Shawn's sarcastic mumble of "I wonder why" had made everyone laugh. Everyone except Craig, of course. Craig was too worried about Paul to really pay attention to what anyone said. 

Speaking of, Craig was late for his daily visit. Ever since Paul had gotten home Craig had made a point of coming over every day and making dinner for him. It was sweet, really. Craig was never really one for showing affection of any sort. It was still a pleasant suprise for Paul to learn that Craig shows his love through servitude. Which, honestly, he wasn't at all suprised about. He always guessed that Craig was a do-er. 

Paul felt his phone vibrate in his shorts pocket. It was faint, but still enough to drag him out of his thoughts. 

... 

** _ 133 : _ ** Sorry I'm late. Traffic sucks rn 😑 

** _ Paul : _ ** thats fine! take your time and dont get a ticket lol 

** _ 133 : _ ** No promises 💀 

... 

Paul couldn't help but to laugh. He loved that Craig used emojis in every text he sent. In Paul's opinion, it made the message more geniune. He just really loved how much effort Craig put into communicating. 

Less than ten minutes later five small, quick, and pattern-less knocks on Paul's door were the only warning he had before Craig quietly opened the door. Paul had given him a spare key so he didn't have to keep letting Craig in all the time. Craig waved a silent 'hello' to Paul (who was still on the couch) as he walked to the small kitchen. He put his keys into his pocket and pulled out a small book with an elastic band wrapped around it to keep it closed. Paul got excited every time Craig pulled out the booklet. It meant he was planning something good. 

"So, what're you feelin' tonight? The Book says it's gonna be good." Paul nodded in Craig's direction and shifted himself on the couch so he could watch the sampler work through the gap in the wall that seperated the living room and the kitchen. 'Living room' was quite the overstatement, though, seeing that Paul's lived in the same, small apartment since 2003.

"You say that as if my recipe book is at all comparable to the Bible." Craig joked as he flipped through the tiny pages. "And I was thinking about making something simple... Gyros?" 

"Gyros are not that simple, Craig-o." 

"It's either gyros or a tuna sandwich." Craig looked up at Paul through the little window after he found the page he was looking for. He forced back a smile at the face Paul made at the mention of the dreaded tuna sandwich. Craig had written down all of Paul's likes and dislikes when it came to food on the first page of his book, and the first thing on the list of dislikes was tuna. "Gyros it is, then." 

"You're too good to me." Paul spoke up about twenty-five minutes later. He had spent twenty of those minutes watching Craig and the other five staring out the (now darker) window. Craig lowered his head so Paul wouldn't see how red his face got. He'd never be comfortable recieving compliments. 

"I'm just making dinner for you." 

"You've made dinner for me every day for the past three months." Paul pointed out smartly. "I feel like I have to pay you now." 

"Please don't. I like helping. Besides, it's nice to see you and make sure you're taking care of yourself." Craig half-heartedly swirled the cubes of chicken he was cooking around in the pan with a plastic spork. Despite Paul's lack of cooking utensils Craig still tried really hard to make everything nice. Paul hummed softly then stayed quiet for a moment. 

"One day, when I'm all better and you don't feel like you have to take care of me anymore, you need to open your own resturaunt." Craig laughed at that. Paul was being serious, though. 

"I already have a job, Paulie... Speaking of, the guys asked me to say hello to you for them." 

"They can come visit if they want to. My door's always open." Paul felt the conversation stagnating. He loved talking with Craig, but he could tell when Craig didn't want to anymore. They didn't need to talk to enjoy each other's company. They'd spent about 80% of their time together in silence, anyway. 

When Craig first came over with a bag of groceries and starting cooking, Paul had all but begged him to stop and to go home. Of course, Craig didn't listen to him and just continued on making whatever it was that he had made that night. That was three months, one week, and four days ago. Paul had gotten used to it by now and knew better than to get in Craig's way when he started cooking. 

... 

** _ Paul : _ ** i like your beard btw 

** _ Paul : _ ** i didnt say it before but i really do like it 

... 

Craig looked down at his phone a smiled, his face turning a slight shade of pink as he read Paul's messages. He looked at the bassist through the gap in the wall, trying his hardest not to laugh. Of course, looking at Paul didn't help. The dude was upside-down on the couch now. Craig took his pan off the stove and made his way over to Paul. 

"You good?" Craig hid his smirk with one hand, the other he used to poke Paul in the stomach. Paul blinked slowly with a stupid grin on his face. "What are you even trying to accomplish here?" 

"I was trying to see how much it would take to get your attention because I really, really, really need you to close my blinds." Craig involuntarilly shifted his vision from Paul (who was trying to sit right-side up again without falling) to the window. Which was less than two feet away. Craig looked back at Paul, the single thought of "Are you fucking kidding me?" clear on his face. Paul smiled wider. Craig sighed and closed the blinds. "I love you so much right now, dude, I could kiss you." 

Craig wasn't sure why that made him feel all giddy - like a teenager in a shitty 80's high school movie - but it did and it scared him. What scared him more was that his initial reaction was, "Well, then, why don't you?". It only took him two seconds to realize that he had accidentally said that out-loud, and that scared him even more. 

Paul's brain short-circuited at Craig's response. He was suprised by how much he actually wanted to go through with that plan. When had their friendship grown into this? 

"I-I, uh, I mean... uhm... I should, uh, finish cooking." Craig spoke quickly and quietly but didn't move. He was frozen, like a deer in headlights. Paul stood up slowly and carefully placed a hand on Craig' shoulder. Paul searched Craig's face for any sort of discomfort or regret but found none. All he saw was excitement. So, he went for it. 

If Paul was completely honest, it was a bit weird. Kissing another man (one of his best friends, no less) in the middle of his apartment as said man was making dinner for him. Paul could feel Craig's facial hair against his own skin and it was a bit jarring, but it was also incredible. Craig's lips were suprisingly soft. 

"Was that okay?" Paul backed up slightly and had to force himself to not laugh at how blown Craig's pupils were. "You look high." 

"What? Oh, no, that was great! I, uh, I really enjoyed it." Craig scrambled for words. All of his rational thoughts had scattered and he wasn't quite sure of anything other than he wanted to kiss Paul again. Like, _ immediately _, but he didn't want to overstep a boundary. Paul and Brenna had divorced less than a year ago and Craig didn't want to rush Paul into anything - if there was even anything to rush into at all. 

"Oh, okay then. Cool." Paul willed himself to let go of Craig's shoulders and sit back down, but it proved to be more difficult than expected. "You should probably finish cooking now." 

"Oh, right!" Craig suddenly turned and their little moment was over. The spell that had fallen over them broke and they soon forgot about it. 

** _ LATER _ **

"Well, Craig, yet another great meal. Really, I think you just use me to test out shit you wanna make later." Paul slid the plates they had used into the dishwasher as he spoke. Craig had complained about Paul cleaning up the first few days, but gave up after a while. Where Craig was stubborn on Paul not helping, Paul was even more stubborn on helping clean up. "I won't lie, though, I really do enjoy having my own personal chef." 

"I'm not a chef. I'm just a guy who cooks for his friend in his spare time. Besides, I haven't spent years learning how to cook. I just find stuff I think you'd like and make it." Craig shrugged as he snagged himself a beer from Paul's fridge. Paul looked over at him, his expression unreadable. 

"You mean, you taught yourself how to cook for me?" 

"Well, yeah. I wanted to do something for you, and cooking seemed like the most reasonable option." Craig took a small sip from his drink and then set the can on the counter. "It's not that big a deal." 

"So, let me get this straight." Paul began, turning fully around so he could watch Craig's reaction. "You taught yourself how to cook simply because you wanted to do something for me, and you worried yourself half to death because of me, and you practically begged me to kiss you because... what? You wanted to?" 

"When you put it like that it sounds like I'm in love with you or something." Craig folded his arms across his chest. Not defensive, mostly just curious. Paul made a nosie in the back of his throat. He didn't even realize what point he want trying to make until Craig said it. 

"Are you?" 

"_You_ kissed _me_, Paul." 

"And _you_ said that you enjoyed it." 

"How could I not? You're a good kisser." 

"Are you saying you want me to kiss you again?" Neither of them realized how close they had gotten to each other. They were too wrapped up in their fake argument to pay attention to much else. "Please say you want me to kiss you again." 

Craig's response came out in a whipser. "Please kiss me again." 

So Paul did. 


	16. Quiet Invitations (C/P)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Slipknot, Paul runs into the guy everyone's warned him about. He can't be that bad... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didnt proof read this one for spelling errors so if i fucked up please let me know

Paul walked through the woods silently, taking great care as to not disturb anything as he went. A friend of his had told him about an old abandonned building deep in the trees, useful for hiding or laying low if you so pleased. Paul had gone and pissed off his dealer so he definitely needed to lay low. His friend had told him that the building used to be a small processing plant for coal or something along those lines. No one else knew about the building except for the select few who needed it. 

As he walked, Paul tried to imagine what the plant would look like. He pictured a grayish concrete exterior with large, cracked windows and big doors that barely moved. He was suprised to find that the place looked more like a run-down mansion instead of the factory-esque building he had imagined. Paul pushed open the door slowly, cringing at how loudly the bottom of the metal door scraped against the floor. A few birds fluttered nervously at the sound. 

It had been almost three hours since Paul had gotten to the building, and it was beginning to get dark. He had spent the past few hours exploring the building, shocked at how well-kept the place was despite the exterior looking so bad. Paul sat on the floor, near a door in one of the rooms. He didn't quite trust the chairs. 

A small _ thwump _ of tennis shoes landing on hard wood echoed from downstairs and Paul flinched. He slowly crawled from next to the door to near the window as footsteps made their way closer to him. He probably shouldn't have been as scared as he was - it was most likely just his friend - but he couldn't help it. Fear made him hold his breath as the footsteps continued around the building. Paul could almost feel the person walking around. 

Soon, the footsteps stopped in what Paul guessed to be the main room and Metallica started echoing throughout the halls. Paul couldn't help but to sigh in relief. At least the mystery person had a good taste in music. 

Paul made his way out of the room he was in and went downstairs - making as little noise as possible. He followed the music to what used to be a break room, expecting to see his friend sitting there with a couple of beers. But it wasn't his friend. It was someone else. Someone he had only heard of from people who seemed to hate him. 

The guy looked to be about twenty-one, maybe twenty-two, hair cut short and stuck into a beanie. His jacket - zipped almost all the way up - looked to be about two sizes too big yet his shorts fitted him perfectly. He was a shroud of black - his skin looking unearthly white in comparison to his clothes. The speaker that was playing Metallica sat on the floor next to the guy's chair. Paul hid behind the doorway as the guy wandered around, fixing a circle of stones with sticks and dried leaves inside it on the floor for a small fire. As the flames went up, Paul shivered as he realized how cold it actually was now that it was dark. 

He didn't want to interrupt, but he had to. He had no other choice but to join this strange man who blasted Metallica at this little fire inside an old processing plant. 

"Hey! Uh, hey. I'm Paul. Sorry if I scared you." The man flinched as Paul spoke, walking through the door frame and accidentally blocking the only exit. 133 turned the music down low. "I've been here by myself for hours. I thought you were a friend of mine. Sorry again." 

The guy, who's face was covered in shadow since he faced away from the fire, motioned for Paul to sit and almost seemed okay with the intrusion Paul created to his alone time. 

Paul carefully sat down on the floor across from the stranger's chair. Despite people warning him about this guy, Paul knew nothing about him. He didn't even know his name, just the nicknames '133' and 'The Killer'. The only reason why he was sure it was the guy people told him to avoid was because no one else would go to an abandonned building just to play Metallica as loudly as they wanted. 

"So, uh... You have a favourite song?" Paul scratched the back of his neck half-hazardly, motioning with his free hand to the stereo. 133 just stared at him from over the fire, expression flat. Paul waited for a response for a few minutes before realizing that he wasn't going to get one. He cleared his throat awkwardly, hoping that 133 didn't notice the lapse in time as much as he had. "I'll take that as a 'no', then." 

Almost forty-five minutes later, the fire was dying and Paul was practically shaking from the cold. 133 had retreated to the warm confines of his jacket, curling in on himself like a turtle. Paul deeply regretted not bringing a blanket with him - or food, for that matter. He hadn't eaten all day due to being too worried about what his dealer would do to get back at him for pissing him off. 

133 unfurled himself and grabbed a backpack Paul didn't notice before and handed a can of beer to Paul, taking one for himself as well before putting the backpack down at the feet of his chair. Paul nodded thanks and sipped from the can, which was now lukewarm from being in a bag for more than an hour. Paul brought up the courage to speak to 133 after another awkward few moments. He wasn't so sure why he was so scared of this dude. 

"You happen to bring any food or anyhing? I haven't eaten all fuckin' day." Paul twisted his finger through his liprings - a nervous tick he picked up when he first got the piercings. He practically melted with joy when 133 reached down and tossed the bag to him. He picked out a bag of chips and handed the bag back over. "You are a fucking saint." 

"Really? Most people just call me 'Satan'." 133 shrugged, curling himself back up as the last of the fire died. A few embers still glowed amongst the ash, but nothing big enough to generate any heat or light. 

"Oh, so you do talk." Paul spoke mostly to himself. He didn't want to offend the guy after he was so nice. 133 didn't seem to care. 

"Yeah. I just prefer not to. You don't incriminate yourself that way." Paul hummed in understanding. There had been plenty of times in his life when he should've kept his mouth shut but hadn't. Like the reason why he was hiding in this old building in the first place. "I'm gonna go get more sticks and leaves. I'll be back in five minutes. Please don't run off with my backpack." 

"I won't. Scouts honor!" Paul joked, smiling. He swore that he saw a smile on 133's face as well, but was probably just the light because when he blinked, any traces of a smirk were gone as he left the room. 

Paul leaned back against the cold, concrete wall and sighed as he munched on his chips. He kicked at one of the stones ildly as he ate, just to look at something new. To him, it had felt like two hours since 133 had left the room when in reality it had barely been two minutes. He blamed the cold and his extroverted nature for that. He barely knew the guy, there was no way in Hell he'd actually bonded with him that quick. There wasn't anything to really even bond over. Unless you count the chips. Man, Paul was really digging those chips. He had forgotten how good food was over the course of the day. 

133 came back around when he said he would and carefully lit up a new fire with a bic he had in his pocket. For some reason, Paul decided that it would be a good idea to have a little interview with him at that exact moment. 

"So, where you from?" Paul tried to sound nonchalant, but he guessed that he failed miserably from the way 133 looked at him. "I mean, uh, did you move here from somewhere else? I'm from L.A." 

"I guessed as much. No Iowan is tan like that without some sort of spray or something." 133 chided as he resumed his previous position of being folded up in his jacket. Paul waited for 133 to actually answer his question but knew deep down that he wasn't going to answer. Paul was suprisingly okay with that. 

"Also, I feel kinda bad, but I don't actually know your name. I just know the nicknames people around town have given you - which are both really weird, by the way. Like how do you come up with '133'? It's just a fucking number!" Paul stopped rambling when heard 133 laugh. Something about his laugh was very comforting, like when you get all cuddled up under a blanket and you get _ perfectly warm_ and your last thought before you fall asleep is 'Everything is fine'. 

"Well, I can tell you right now that the reason people call me 133 is because I'm a technology nerd, like I have a serious addiction, and the 133MHz was the first computer model I ever had. 'The Killer' is just because I hate everyone and I'm more introverted. Stupid stereotype kinda deal." 133 was actually smiling as he explained. Paul smiled as well, because something about this dude made him feel all warm and fuzzy - like a shitty fanfiction trope - but he liked it too much to complain. 133 had a soothing voice. 

"What's your real name, then?" 

"Craig." Somehow, Paul kind of expected a very basic name. It suited him well. 

"Well then, Craig, it's nice to meet you." Paul stuck his hand out, smiling. He and Craig shook hands briefly before Craig turned the stereo back up, signalling that he was done with the conversation. Frankly, Paul was, too. They sat quite comfortably without talking, just listening to the music. 

Paul stared at the fire for a while, watching the leaves and sticks burn, enjoying the effect the crackling made on the music. He looked up from the flames to see Craig staring at him. Paul cocked his head to the side as if to ask why. Craig just looked away, looking slightly pink through the orange-ish yellow glow of the fire. Paul leaned over and turned the stereo off. 

"What's up?" Paul still had his head tilted slightly to the side, but less than before. Craig didn't dare to look at him. He felt awkward now that Paul had caught him in the middle of his people watching. He liked watching people, but it was always so painfully uncomfortable when the people he was watching saw him. "Dude, you can't just pretend you weren't just fuckin' starin' at me." 

"Five bucks says I can." Craig grumbled into his jacket in response, pulling his beanie over his eyes. Paul forced down a laugh at that. Craig was being so awkwardly adorable and Paul couldn't just _not_ laugh. 

"Five bucks says be begging me to talk to you again before the fire goes out again." Paul teased. Okay, so maybe he was having a little bit too much fun with this interaction, but as long as Craig didn't think he was weird, he was fine. 

Craig didn't respond, he just huffed in defiance as he twisted around, turning away from Paul as best as he could in his chair. Paul made a soft purr-like noise as he copied Craig's position mockingly. They continued to do things like that for a moment before bursting into laughter, the both of them practically wheezing as if what just happened was the funniest thing in the world. It wasn't. 

"Oh, man, I need to sleep. That was really not funny." Craig rubbed at his eyes and shook out his arms as he stood up. Paul sighed, disappointed, at the idea of being left alone again either until his friend got there or Craig came back. He really didn't like the idea of sleeping on the cement floor, either. Craig sensed Paul's dismay and quickly continued. "I'll be back tomorrow. Who knows - maybe I'll even bring more chips for you!" 

"Food isn't what I'm sighing about." Paul stood up as well and helped Craig put his backpack, the shorter of the two completely silent. "I just don't want be alone in this creepy ass building." 

"You can come home with me." Craig shrugged after a while. Paul made a face, completely misreading what Craig meant. "Not like that, you perv! I meant that I have a space in my apartment for you to spend the night if you want." Craig seemed somewhat proud of himself for this explaination being even slightly coherent. Paul smiled. 

"How do I know this isn't just some ploy to kill me? People must call you 'The Killer' for a reason." He joked, nudging Craig's side playfully. Craig leaned into the touch, mostly just to push Paul away but partly because he's severely touchstarved. Paul used the slight momentum to nudge the stereo into a corner so someone passing by wouldn't steal it. 

"Yeah, no, I just spent almost six hours with you to gain your trust so that you'd follow me home so I could violently murder you and use your bones as decoration." Craig's voice went monotone as he deadpanned, but quickly smiled again when Paul looked genuinely horrified. "I'm joking, Paul. I'd never do that." 

"Oh, thank God." Paul mumbled as he flollowed Craig out of the room and through the building. Craig shrugged. 

"Yeah, I would never kill anyone in my own home! Think of the mess! Plus, my landlord would kill me..." Craig smirked, watching Paul's reactions out of the corner of his eye. Paul laughed softly at the jokes, not wanting to be as loud now that they were in the most echo-y room in the building. Craig seemed happy with this and continued to lead Paul to his apartment in near perfect silence. 

As Craig unlocked his apartment door, he stopped suddenly and turned to Paul. "You aren't allergic to cats, are you?" 

"Uh, no. Why?" Paul's interest peaked automatically. Craig hadn't spoken at all during their walk, and any mention of animals in general excites him. "Do you have one?" 

"Yeah. He doesn't really like people other than me, so I wouldn't try to interact with him all that much." Craig opened the door, letting Paul in first (because Craig is a gentleman, and Paul seemed like he'd had a rough day). Craig felt along the wall for the light switch as he shut the door. Paul stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his eyes finally getting used to the dark just as Craig turned the lights on. "Sorry that it's a bit messy. I didn't have the intention of bringing anyone home when I went out." 

Paul looked around in confusion. Craig's apartment was actually pretty neat, which meant a lot, coming from Paul anyway. Craig took his backpack and jacket off, setting the bag on the floor by the door and the jacket on a the back of his couch, which Paul had made himself at home on. 

"I'm gonna get you a pillow. There should be a blanket somewhere in here. If you can't find one, just give me a call and I'll get one... Anything else you want or need?" Craig stood in front of Paul, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. Paul thought for a moment before shaking his head 'no'. If he was being perfectly honest, there were a million things he wanted. He wanted to shower, have dinner, and sleep in his own bed. But he also wanted to stay with Craig for a little while longer. Maybe meet his cat, talk for a bit (even though it was already almost three in the morning and they both desperately needed to sleep), cuddle with him on the couch-... Okay, so what if Paul's sleep-deprived brain made him yearn for a guy he'd just met? He'd be fine as long as he kept his mouth shut. 

"Here's a pillow. Please ignore the colour. I know it's awful." Paul blinked several times, staring blankly at the pillow now in his lap. Craig wasn't lying when he said that it was bad. It was the brightest orange Paul had ever seen. 

"This shit looks like a fucking traffic cone, Craigy." Paul laughed, flipping the pillow over in his hands. "Please tell me your bedsheets aren't also this fucking horrid." 

"That's for me to know and you to find out." Craig chuckled, picking up his jacket from before as he turned off the light. "I'm right down the hall if you need me. Bathroom's the first door on your left." 

"Thanks." Paul yawned, his exhaustion fully settling in. He laid down, expecting to pass out immediately, but he couldn't sleep. His brain just refused to shut off. He waited for thirty minutes before getting up and wandering around. Just from his quick tour of the apartment, Paul could tell that Craig was a huge nerd and most definitely needed to go food shopping. Craig's lack of actual food was the only flaw that Paul was actually bothered by. Nevermind the murder jokes, this man needed to eat a fucking vegetable. 

Paul continued to wander around the apartment quite aimlessly until he accidentally walked into Craig's bedroom. It was a lot more bare than what Paul was expecting, but he was more shocked that Craig was also wide awake. 

"Uh, sorry. I-" 

"Please don't talk so loud." Craig whispered, waving Paul over as he scooted over on his bed. Paul cautiously walked over and sat down. "Could you not sleep, either?" 

"Nope... You really need to buy actually fucking food, though. Your fridge is pitiful." Paul laughed, laying down on his back and crossing his hands over his chest. He was extremely pleased to see that Craig's sheets were a rather normal and muted shade of grey. Somehow, despite only knowing Craig for a few hours, this seemed somewhat natural. Craig didn't mind how it either, so Paul decided to test how close he could actually get. He blamed his exhaustion-fueled yearning for that idea. 

"Hmm..." No other words were shared. The only noises were from Paul shifting, which eventually led to Paul's head on Craig's chest and his arm wrapped around his middle. Craig hummed softly as Paul let out a content sigh. They were both actually quite comfortable and before they knew it, they were both asleep. 


End file.
